


Pion Coiffe

by fireun



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireun/pseuds/fireun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In chess, a capped piece- A certain piece with which one player tries to deliver checkmate. When the capped piece is a pawn, it is called a pion coiffé.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pion Coiffe

His hair was soft, trailing through her fingers. She flinched as she brushed against his cheek. After everything that had happened between them, that quick, simple touch distressed her the most. It was too innocent. She stood, pulling away as if the red strands contained the power to burn.

She preferred the quiet, brutal efficiency that colored all of his waking movements, an awareness of every muscle that at once attracted and repelled. He was dangerous, this Kenshin.

Her Kenshin. The small, shy smiles. The quiet, contained voice. The way he was never quite at rest, the way his eyes tracked her every movement, the fall of a leaf somewhere just past her. Her Kenshin. The killer she kept on a short leash with her gentle touches and soft words. There was nothing of the killer in him now as he slept- nothing but the way his eyes were always moving behind his lids. Even now, with the scent of her still covering him like a musky perfume, the taste of her still in his mouth, he could not rest.

And he really shouldn't. As she slipped back into her clothing, so quiet, so used to living with his awareness and reflexes, her thoughts turned towards betrayal.

They were tools, the both of them. Even as her body remembered the feel of his teeth, the brush of his lips, as her fingers recalled clenching and clawing against his back, her mind carefully worked its way through the next action that was required of her. And if she had grown to enjoy sitting with him to eat, watching him work, seeing him smile, that was irrelevant.

Tomoe, slipped on her shoes and slipped out the door. She has no illusions as to her future. She knew what lurked behind those gentle eyes. One way or another, it didn't matter who wielded the blade, her story was reaching its end.

She only wished she didn't have to take him down with her.


End file.
